Explore "Suffered in Vain" by Bertha M. Clay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The peace and purity of the night indisposed Lois to talk, and Blanche was meditating on how far the proprieties might admit of her sounding her new friend on the subject of the supposed estrangement. So neither spoke for several minutes.
"A night like this always reminds me of the moonlight-scene in the ‘Merchant of Venice," Blanche said, at length. "I was afraid the storm would last until morning; perhaps I was also afraid mama would scold terribly. But I think when she is really alarmed, she is too much upset to be able to scold in proper style. I like these summer storms; the weird lightning has such a mystic beauty of its own. I lost my head this afternoon, but that was because we were in such a dangerous place, and a little because I was frightened on your account, as you seemed so terrified."